Just One of the Guys
by JayRain
Summary: As the Inquisitor, Theo Trevelyan is a larger than life symbol to those who don't know him. But he's also capable of being just a normal guy, and hanging out with Harding and her scouts-so long as they don't realize exactly who he is. Maybe they the morale boost, and maybe he needs to just be one of the guys for one night. Gift fic for FenZev and the 300th review on 'Fumbling'.


_Author's Note:_ A gift fic for FenZev, who left the 300th review on _Fumbling Toward Who We Are!_ I also owe the Krem/Harding inspiration to Orangeflavor and "Interlocking". This takes place within chapter 31 of "Fumbling".

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 _Just One of the Guys_

This can barely be called a clearing; there's hardly enough room for tents, and tree branches crisscross overhead and block the sky. If there's a moon, no one can tell. Camp is quiet, and the forest is alive with the sounds of night birds and animals and the knowledge of the enemy somewhere out in the dense darkness.

"Are you certain you're fine?" Krem asks Harding, eyeing her bandaged arm.

She shrugs her other shoulder. "Nothing I can't handle," she says, though in truth it hurts. Enchanter Vivienne pulled a large shard of red lyrium from the wound earlier, and it's as if the stuff has left behind traces of its poison. It still stings. But she's not the lead scout for nothing, and she won't show just how much it still hurts. "I should get back to my regiment. They'll be worried," she said, kissing Krem's cheek.

Footfalls in the dark make them both straighten up. "Inqusitor," Harding says, blushing, as Krem nods and says "Boss," gruffly. They're both grateful for the dim light.

"Hey," Inquisitor Theo Trevelyan says, as if he's just one of them. In the darkness he may as well be. "Bull's gathering the Chargers to discuss some strategy or other," he tells Krem. He glances between the two of them and smiles a little ruefully. "Though I understand that this is probably preferable." That relaxes things a bit. Only a bit though. He's still the Inquisitor.

Krem sighs and stretches. "I'll see what the Chief needs. You take care of yourself," he orders Harding before setting off back toward the main camp.

"Bull really did need to see him," Theo tells Harding when Krem has gone. "I wasn't… I mean…"

Harding grins. "I know. Don't think I don't see you and your mage together all the time," she says with a wink. "Hey, I'm a scout. It's my job to notice things. And it's sweet I guess, that romance can flourish in such a messed up world."

"Do you plan on staying here tonight?" the Inquisitor asks.

"I need to get back to my scouts. Vivienne cleared me, even though it still hurts," she says, grimacing. "Got any words of wisdom for the troops?" she asks, half joking.

He bites his lip and rubs the back of his neck. "I'm not good at that sort of thing," he confesses, looking around nervously.

She looks up at him curiously. An idea forms in the back of her mind. "Put your hood up and come with me," she tells him, and he does. One of the things she finds interesting about the Inquisitor is that he doesn't ask questions of his people; he listens and he trusts. But few outside of his inner circle really know this. He doesn't seem to understand just what he is to everyone else. Maybe he needs to.

They trek through the camp, through the winding paths to the lower camps and try to avoid gnarled roots trying to trip them in the dark. Eventually firelight shows through the branches. The tents are denser here, and while there's still the tension of impending battle, it's more relaxed than the upper camp.

"Hey Harding!" someone calls, and people stand and crowd around her and Theo. With his cloak hood up and his chin down, he's unrecognizable. Though chances are really good no one in this camp has see him up close enough to tell. "You survived," someone else says, clapping her on the back.

"Sorry, Silver," she says, laughing. "You don't get to be lead scout today." There's laughter. "This is Fletch," she says, using Varric's nickname for Theo. "He's one of the archery regiment, but he's got good eyes. Thought I'd let him hang around the scouts for the night and see if he wants to join the front lines."

There are shrugs of assent and the mass of people parts to allow them through. Seats are cleared around a bonfire. Someone hands Harding a wineskin. She takes a swig and offers it to Theo, who drinks. "So did you see the Inquisitor?" someone asks her almost as soon as she's swallowed. "Did you tell him what we saw?"  
"I did," Harding says, though she's not specific as to which question she's answering. No wonder Leliana likes her.

"Is it true he's seven feet tall?" another person asks, nibbling at a sausage he's been roasting over the fire. "No wait, that's your boyfriend's boss," he says and everyone, including Theo, laughs.

"Actually the Iron Bull is closer to eight feet tall," Harding says with a grin. "The Inquisitor's shorter than that though. Six feet, maybe?" She glances over at Theo who shrugs. With his hood up it's hard to read his expression, though it must be odd to hear people talk about you as if you're not there.

Talk turns to the day's explorations. "Terrain's getting rougher. We may have to do some advanced clearing to buy the army a chance," an elf says, polishing her knife blades until they gleam in the orange light.

"The red templars only get through because they don't care about what's around us," another elf says, glancing around even though it's dark. "I grew up in an alienage; my ma used to tell me stories about The People and their history…I thought it was all a myth until I saw places like this and the Emerald Graves." She speaks wistfully.

"But… isn't that why we're here?" someone asks, nearing the fire and sitting down. "To save the world. To save places like this. That's what the Inquisitor's tried to do from the start," he says.

"You think so?"

"I do. But you must think so too, on some level, or you wouldn't be with the Inquisition," he tells her with a knowing smirk. People nod. "I was just a villager in Haven when the breach happened. And then I escaped Haven when those red bastards attacked." He spits; so do several other people. "The Inquisitor's stopped a lot of shit from happening."

"Here, here." Harding raises her wineskin and takes a hearty swig.

"Why'd you join, Fletch?" the man asks suddenly, turning his gaze on Theo. There's curiosity there; no challenge, no suspicion.

Theo shrugs. "I was in the right place at the right time," he says, staring into the fire. "I want to do good things. Help make things right with the world."

The man claps him on the back, hard. Theo coughs as the wind rushes out of his chest, but he smiles. "That's what we need. Get this man a drink of his own!" It's clear that the man's been at the bottle for a better part of the evening, but Theo doesn't say anything about it and graciously accepts the wine that's handed to him. Doubtless it's nothing like what's served in the upper camp, but he drinks anyway. Harding watches him carefully. He's not like other nobles she's seen, and even in the time he's been Inquisitor, with all he's seen and done, he seems at ease here. She wonders what would happen if she revealed his true identity.

But then she looks closely: he's offering archery tips and suggestions to someone in between swings of wine. She tries not to laugh; not only is he the Inquisitor, but possibly one of the best damned archers she's ever seen. And he's trading tips with another scout. She also notes that he's wearing gloves, so no one can see his glowing mark.

"He'd be a good addition," the young elf says quietly, sidling up next to Harding. "Standish likes him well enough."

"Standish likes everyone when he's had enough to drink," Harding says, but she's smiling.

"Yeah, but… he seems genuine. Down to earth. We could use a guy like that on our team."

"I agree," Harding says. What she doesn't let on is that 'Fletch' isn't only on their side, he's the reason they have a side at all.

Time passes and Harding feels sleepy, but knows that people will be looking for Theo. The last thing she wants is for people to realize that Fletch is the Inquisitor; they've been at ease, laughing, joking, drinking and generally having more fun thinking he's just another regiment archer. She'll tell them in the morning, after he's gone. It will be the morale boost they need to press forward, deeper into the Arbor Wilds.

"Time to head back to the archers," she announces, breaking up a dirty joke before the punch line, and earning groans. "Hey, I'm the lead scout," she says, and looks tall and proud even though she's a dwarf. "We have scout business to talk over, and Fletch isn't a scout. Yet," she adds with a wink at Theo.

They head back toward the upper camp. She pauses at the halfway point. "You good from here?"

"I am if you are," he says, looking pointedly at her bandaged arm.

"This? This is nothing. I'll be fine," she says. "I don't think you realize what you've given my people," she adds.

He tilts his head to the side, quizzical. "I didn't say or do anything special though. I was just… just there."

"And that's what they need. You don't have to be a great politician or speaker or warrior. I think once they realize that you're just an everyday guy who came out to have a drink with them that's going to do wonders for morale."

"You're going to tell them?" he asks, eyes wide even in the darkness. "I told the worst jokes!"

She laughs. "I think that's the point though. You, Inquisitor you, is this larger than life symbol. But you, like you were tonight, you're just a regular guy. And if people realize you can drink and tell dirty jokes and trade archery tips like they can, maybe that's what they need. And maybe realizing that you are that guy, in addition to being that symbol, is what you need," she says.

He nods thoughtfully. "I suppose you're right," he muses. He turns to leave, but pauses. "Harding? Can you tell them the Inquisitor says thank you, and that they're doing good work?" he asks.

She smiles. "Sure thing, Boss," she says, turning and heading back toward her camp. She can't wait to ask Standish about 'Fletch's' jokes.


End file.
